Elise felt bad and sorry for knocking the painting; worse perhaps she had ruined it. All the paintings were beautiful to her eyes and she didn't know if she had destroyed the one which seemed as if in the middle of the work. She didn't know what painting it was as it was covered by the white cloth but Ian seemed to be the one taking care of the painting she concluded from his words.
Ian left his finger fingers from her waist, taking one step back to have herself a breathable space, Elise felt her hands clammy. She looked down on the paintings and and the objects she had knocked. Lord please, thought Elise. The air felt awkward after the chaos she started. She didn't know what she should do or which items should she pick first. The brush? Or the wooden easel? Or the paints? Elise bent on her knees, her hands moved and halted, confused with the shock that electrified her mind to stop working for once.
